


History Repeated

by stew (julie)



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode: s01e04 Killer With a Long Arm, Episode: s01e05 Heroes, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1992-04-01
Updated: 1992-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23305354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew
Summary: Doyle is drunkenly mourning the loss of fellow CI5 operative Tommy, and Bodie is keeping him company. Eventually Bodie declares that he’s only ever mourned one person in his life – and once that story is told, Doyle has a confession of his own to make. Developments ensue… but then how are they going to confess all to Cowley?
Relationships: William Bodie/Ray Doyle
Kudos: 11





	History Repeated

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** A sequel to the episodes 104 _Killer with a Long Arm_ and 105 _Heroes_. 
> 
> **First published:** in the zine “Down Under Express” #1 by Clarke & Keating Ink in April 1992.

# History Repeated 

♦

Bodie sat, feet up on his coffee table, watching Doyle carefully. His partner, after having swung from one mood to another all evening, was now sunk in thought over the coffee that Bodie had forced on him. 

The Moet that Cowley ‘borrowed’ from Latymer had started it off, and Doyle finding Bodie’s stash of scotch back at his flat had completed the task, with a little help in between from the pub they’d patronised on the way home. Throughout, Doyle had drunkenly see-sawed between grieving rage for Tommy’s death and euphoric triumph over Latymer’s subsequent arrest. Bodie was definitely wary of leaving his partner alone in such a state. 

‘Come on, sunshine,’ Bodie eventually said. ‘Don’t do this to yourself.’ 

‘Tommy _died_ to save us and Sumner!’ Doyle protested. 

‘He chose it that way.’ 

‘That’s meant to make it OK, is it?’ 

‘Give it a rest, Doyle, you knew he was mad as a hatter. It was the best way for him.’ 

‘How can you say that?’ Doyle looked up, green eyes full of drunken pain. 

‘Be realistic. Tommy was never going to reach retirement age. At least his death did some good this way.’ 

Doyle flinched and turned away a little. ‘I suppose so,’ he said, sounding unconvinced. ‘But I have to mourn him, all right?’ 

‘All right,’ Bodie echoed softly. He looked away as well, eyes at last itching with the portent of tears, thinking of the only person he’d ever mourned. 

Yet his partner, not so hard around the heart, would mourn anyone he knew, and even some he didn’t. Bodie often thought this was pointless – once someone was dead, it was too late to be moaning over them. But his Doyle would get touchy and uptight (not to mention guilty and full of regret) when they killed a suspect in the line of duty, though he’d always passed CI5’s psychological profile with flying colours in that area as in all the others. Bodie had found to his surprise that his own rationale – that of seeing the killing as part of a dirty job that simply had to be done – was looked on less kindly by Cowley and Ross and their retinue. 

Doyle was even worse when it was a fellow operative or an innocent citizen who had shuffled off this mortal coil. There had been that long lost uncle who Doyle had barely known – Doyle had agonised for weeks over the stupid accident that had done him away. Bodie now smiled a little as he remembered another time when some rock star that Doyle had never even met had died and, to Bodie’s complete amazement, Doyle had wandered around bereft for two long, stunned days. In Bodie’s opinion the man could sometimes be too sentimental for his own good. 

‘Don’t you grieve for Tommy?’ Doyle now insisted, catching Bodie’s smile. 

‘I’d have been sorrier to see him if he’d lived to be fifty. He was burning out fast.’ 

Doyle looked disgusted. ‘Sometimes I think you’re hardly human.’ 

‘Sometimes you’d be right.’ Bodie regretted his words immediately as Doyle turned further into himself. Bodie stood and walked over to sit next to his partner. Unaware that he sounded insincere, he said easily, ‘And sometimes I envy you, Ray, when all your rampant emotions run wild. Seems like I was born in Siberia.’ Bodie chuckled, and intoned in a wind-chilled voice, ‘On the frozen steppes…’ 

‘No, not born there. Just moved there in your formative years.’ 

_‘Touché.’_

‘Have you _ever_ mourned anyone?’ 

Bodie swallowed, avoiding the fierce gaze. _Here be dragons._ ‘Yes. Just once.’ 

‘Would you have mourned me?’ 

‘You know I would,’ Bodie whispered. 

‘Because the next bullets would have done it if Tommy hadn’t drawn their fire. That guy was sweeping closer and closer, and the tree I was behind would have been no use. The next bullet would have been my shoulder, and then my face.’ 

‘Shut up,’ Bodie said. The champagne and beer and scotch churned in his stomach. He gazed at the coffee table, seeing only the results of those last two bullets in graphic detail. 

‘What would you have said to Cowley? _It’s better that he went in his prime_ – _it’s for the best that he died in action_ – _he would have hated the life of a useless, pensioned-off operative._ And you’d have finally lost that dead wood, that albatross around your neck that you call a partner.’ 

‘No, never that –’ Bodie stuttered. And his guts heaved so suddenly that he only just made it to the bathroom in time. He threw up everything he’d drunk and the pie he’d eaten at the pub, and then kept retching emptily on his bile. 

Doyle had followed him. When Bodie finally sat back against the bathtub, Doyle tided everything up, helped him rinse his mouth out, dried his face. Bodie just sat and shivered. 

‘I don’t know what I’d be… if you were dead, Ray… I’d be a mess.’ 

‘Yeah.’ Doyle crouched by his partner. The man was shaking and sweating like there was no tomorrow, and his words sounded like delirium – Doyle had never seen him in such bad shape. Bodie would hate that he’d displayed his vulnerability like this. ‘I shouldn’t have said all that,’ Doyle continued uncomfortably. The alcohol settled within him, turning his fine grief and wild elation all sour and depressed. 

‘See, I did mourn someone once, I mourned him like it was the end of the world.’ 

‘Who was that? Family?’ 

‘Not family – a lover. Yeah,’ Bodie said as he faced Doyle’s surprise, ‘a man. We worked together in Africa for years.’ He huddled into himself, head on his drawn-up knees. ‘He was everything to me.’ 

‘You worked together?’ Doyle prompted. 

Bodie seemed to at last pull together some composure. ‘When I started in CI5 I told Cowley that was it, I’d not have a partner again in my life. But he pulled rank on me eventually.’ 

‘And you ended up with me,’ Doyle reflected, sinking back against the tiled wall to sit opposite Bodie. He was so relieved that Bodie was finally talking to him, Doyle didn’t reflect on the possible consequences. In all the years they’d been together, Bodie had never let any information so personal slip through his cool facade. Doyle had begun to believe that the hard shell was all there was to the man, that somehow he had been emptied of all feeling. ‘You should have told me this before. I would have understood why – As it was, I took it all personally.’ 

_‘London’s finest,’_ Bodie muttered. 

‘I know on paper it looks like that doesn’t measure up to your military background.’ 

‘Military and mercenary. Matched with a London cop.’ 

‘Whatever my background, _I’m worth you,’_ Doyle insisted. 

‘Never said you weren’t. At least, not once I knew you.’ Bodie lifted his head wearily. ‘It’s worked out well – a good balance.’ 

Doyle looked at him, hardly daring to hope Bodie was serious. ‘Sounds like you’re quoting Cowley,’ he said finally. 

‘Well, the old man’s right occasionally.’ Bodie shrugged. ‘Didn’t think you’d still need me to say it.’ 

‘No, you’d think I’d be used to you by now, you’d think I’d have seen through to the heart of gold.’ 

Bodie raised one eyebrow. ‘I thought we agreed it’s a heart of Siberian ice.’ 

‘Frozen gold?’ Doyle speculated, before he turned serious again. _In for a penny, in for a pound._ ‘I’ve got a theory – you were born warm-blooded, but bad things happened to you. Turned you cold. So you can’t do the simple things any more, like mourn Tommy.’ 

Bodie rolled his eyes skyward. ‘Death’s a fact of life, Doyle. Grow up – you’ve seen enough of it by now.’ 

‘You don’t have to become immune to it.’ 

‘I’m not,’ Bodie said hoarsely, suddenly losing that cool control again. ‘If it had been you –’ 

‘What?’ 

‘Good Lord, don’t you know – ? I never thought it would happen again, but you’ve got close to me, Ray, as close as I’ve ever let anyone get.’ 

‘You called us… a mobile ghetto the other day,’ Doyle said lightly, easily recalling his decision to take it as just another of Bodie’s little jokes. ‘I guess I always _knew_ you cared, but I never _felt_ it, so I couldn’t trust it.’ 

‘I’ve cared for a long while now,’ Bodie said softly. 

‘Tell me about your lover.’ 

Bodie shot Doyle a disbelieving look. But after a long moment he slowly began to recount the tale, his usually silver tongue clumsy with the unprecedented confession. 

During his soldier-of-fortune days, Bodie had felt free as a bird. He’d had no ties to anyone in his life, his family counting for so little that once he’d left them behind it was as if they’d never existed. And all the bad things in his new life didn’t matter – Bodie just let them bounce off his hard shell of an exterior. Then he met Alain, a Belgian about Bodie’s own age. Alain was in the mercenary business, too, but was one of the few people Bodie could respect. Off-duty, Alain was all fun and wit, in direct contrast to Bodie’s stoic grimness. _Lighten up,_ Alain kept telling the Englishman. Bodie had slept with both men and women before, but this new relationship became different. Alain had described it as having soul. Working, the two of them made an unbeatable team – which was part of what Bodie loved about Alain: that together, they were ten times the soldier, ten times the lover, that each were alone. 

Bodie finished the tale for Doyle with a few blunt sentences. ‘I was invincible with him beside me. And for almost four years, we were inseparable, too. But once, when he was alone, he got himself killed. Stupidly. I went mad for a while. And the bad things started to hurt.’ 

‘And then your heart froze over,’ Doyle murmured. After a while, he asked, ‘How did he die?’ 

Bodie sighed. ‘Like Tommy. Saving others.’ 

‘Bravely, then.’ 

‘Foolishly. I’ll never forgive him for choosing their lives over his.’ 

‘But it was his choice. He thought it worth dying for.’ 

Bodie looked across at Doyle. ‘Don’t romanticise it. Heroes are usually just bull-headed.’ 

‘Like Tommy? What about _his_ choice?’ 

‘I admit it’s an experience. This time the man I love has been _saved_ by the same stupid sacrifice.’ 

‘Then you _can_ mourn him? You can remember how you felt for Alain, and think of Tommy.’ 

‘Aren’t you listening?’ The blue gaze was unwavering. ‘I remember Alain,’ Bodie said seriously, coldly, ‘and I think of you.’ 

Doyle frowned a little. ‘Meaning… what exactly?’ 

‘You need it spelt out?’ 

‘The remark was open to interpretation,’ Doyle insisted, wary of this unknown and maybe unknowable man. 

Bodie rolled his eyes again. ‘Lord, thought you would have guessed by now anyhow. What happened to your copper’s powers of observation?’ 

‘Maybe I can’t be objective in this case.’ 

‘I love you, you idiot – plain as day, isn’t it? Never _had_ to hide it the one time it happened before. Not very good at hiding it now, I didn’t think. But then you probably thought I was always joking around.’ 

‘You mean _love_ like you loved Alain,’ Doyle said flatly. 

‘Yes.’ Bodie at last dropped his fierce gaze, to defensively examine his hands clasped across his knees. 

‘Not in other ways – friendship, partnership.’ 

Bodie shrugged. ‘Those ways, too. The rest just grew on me.’ He looked up as Doyle’s silence continued. ‘Well then, enough said. Case closed.’ 

Eventually Doyle said, ‘I had a friend once – Kevin, his name was. In school, we were fourteen. For me, it was experimenting. I was too scared of girls to make the move on them, like they were a different species, so when he suggested it… But in the end he turned out gay. I… think I disappointed him.’ Doyle shook his head. ‘After all this time, he’s still on my mind.’ 

Bodie let out a short laugh. ‘Funny, isn’t it? History repeating itself – me falling for my partners – you disappointing your gay friends.’ 

‘Funny? I feel more pathetic than funny.’ 

‘Hey.’ Bodie stretched out and poked Doyle’s leg with a toe to get his attention. ‘Don’t feel you’ve let me down. I never had any expectations, not this time.’ 

‘I don’t know.’ Doyle shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. ‘I don’t know. Could try. But then where would we be if it all fell through? There’s too much to lose.’ 

‘You mean you’d consider it?’ The blue eyes met Doyle’s, eagle-bright. ‘You and me?’ 

‘Of course.’ Doyle looked sheepish, started justifying thoughts that had surprised even him. ‘As soon as you put together _him_ and _lover_ and _a man_ , the old brain got into gear and started running through all the possibilities. You know: Does he want me? Would I want him? Hell, if you were a woman, I’d have thought that one through years ago.’ 

Bodie sighed, let his head fall back. _‘The brain_ – too clinical. It’s not in you to love another man, Ray, I figured that one out myself. Don’t force it.’ 

‘The problem is I don’t have much success with this sort of thing – serious relationships, I mean.’ He ran his hands, palm down, back along his thighs, nervous and eternally uncomfortable. ‘It’s all or nothing for us, isn’t it? No grey area. And it’s never worked that way for me before. Not for want of trying.’ 

‘I don’t want to talk about this, Ray,’ Bodie said wearily. Then he looked up to continue with more energy. ‘Things as they are – us, Cowley, CI5 – everything’s fine the way it is for once. Even when I had Alain, I hated Africa, see? Right now, all I want is to keep going how we are. I don’t want anything more from you than that.’ 

‘But if I think I can offer more, isn’t it worth trying –’ 

‘I’m not asking for anything more – I don’t want to tempt Fate. She’s turned a blind eye for a while, and I want to keep it that way. So I’ve been stupid enough to fall for a straight guy.’ Bodie shrugged. ‘But if you talked me into _experimenting_ with you, that would be all Fate needed to notice me again, and I can tell you the results right now, sunshine. You’d hate me, it would be the end of us, it would ruin what I’ve salvaged of my life, and probably ruin our careers as well. What’s OK in Africa, isn’t near good enough here.’ 

Doyle had paled under Bodie’s vehement attack, but hadn’t shifted his gaze. ‘I don’t care what’s good enough or not; it’s only you and me that matters.’ 

‘What about Cowley? There’s no way he’d approve. Might even assign us different partners. I couldn’t stand that.’ 

‘We’d deal with it, one thing at a time. Anyhow, the Cow has an enormous soft spot for you – he even puts up with your bad jokes.’ 

‘Oh, very droll.’ Bodie clambered stiffly to his feet, looked around, slightly dazed at where he found himself. ‘Hell of a cold place for a conversation. My butt is frozen.’ 

Bodie offered a hand to help Doyle up, but once he was standing, Doyle wouldn’t let go of him. ‘Give me one good reason not to try,’ Doyle murmured, face and body deliberately only inches from Bodie’s. 

‘Reasons?’ Bodie shrugged. ‘Our friendship, our careers, your inclination towards women. There’s three for you.’ 

‘If I’m so straight, how come I have this overpowering urge to kiss you right now? It’s like a physical ache in my heart and my lips. And in other, more prosaic places.’ 

‘You’re crazy. Why the hell should you suddenly want this?’ 

‘I don’t know. The idea’s been growing on me. Kevin caught me unawares, too, and _he_ got lucky. Why not you?’ 

‘Yeah, why not the guy who gets up your nose at least ten times a day?’ Bodie said, sarcastic. 

‘I have a theory about that, too. Want to hear it? If I didn’t care for you, you wouldn’t irritate me at all. So it follows that, as you irritate me so _very_ much…’ 

‘There’s some kind of perverse logic there, I guess.’ Bodie sighed. ‘Ray, you have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for.’ 

‘Never could resist a challenge,’ Doyle said lightly. ‘Ask me to love you.’ 

‘All right, all right.’ Bodie finally pulled away from Doyle’s closeness, and stood uneasily as far away as he could get in the small bathroom. ‘I’ll ask it,’ he said eventually. ‘But for the sake of what’s left of my life, don’t answer me now. Give it time, think it over. And I’ll pray to whoever will listen that you’ll have forgotten all this by tomorrow.’ 

‘But I want to stay with you tonight.’ 

Bodie smiled at the voice that was half petulance and half need. ‘Staying over’s cheaper than the taxi fare. You can have the sofa.’ 

‘The sofa…’ Doyle complained. 

‘You’re nuts. We’re both tired and drunk, I’ve just thrown up, and you’re thinking of sharing my bed?’ 

‘Not such a bad idea.’ Doyle took a step or two forward, and lifted a hand to caress Bodie’s face. ‘I don’t want to be apart from you.’ And, truth be told, he was scared that if he left Bodie alone now, it would be too convenient for both of them to forget this, or to at least forget the emotions each were feeling. Doyle eased closer, slipped his other hand to his partner’s waist. ‘Here I am, falling in love with you, and you don’t want me here with you. Don’t you want to make sure I do this right?’ 

‘Dear God, Ray.’ Bodie at last pulled the man into his arms, grimacing as if the movement hurt him. He held Doyle roughly close, rubbing his face against Doyle’s hair, burying himself in the angles of Doyle’s shoulder and neck. Groaning as he felt his body quicken despite his weariness, as he felt Doyle’s own instinctive urge towards him. 

‘I can love you,’ Doyle whispered. ‘I do love you.’ 

Bodie let out a muffled chuckle. ‘London’s finest _and_ bravest.’ They held onto each other tightly for a while. Then Bodie stood back a little, tried to bank down all his re-awoken needs. ‘Come on, Ray. It’s late and I need my beauty sleep.’ 

‘ _Beauty_ sleep? Don’t be ridiculous. Even when I could be objective about you, I thought you were the handsomest guy I’d ever –’ 

‘Knock it off. You want to swell my head?’ 

‘Too late to worry about that, mate.’ 

‘Ray, let’s just… sleep together tonight. Literally. We can be close to each other if that’s what you want. And some other time, when we’re feeling a little healthier –’ 

‘– we can consummate this love of ours. But for now,’ and Doyle smiled a little wickedly, ‘you could at least kiss me.’ 

Bodie laughed, sounding supremely satisfied. ‘Practicalities first. Let me brush my teeth.’ 

‘All right.’ But Doyle wouldn’t let him go, and stood behind him with his hands on Bodie’s waist as he leant over the sink. ‘Inseparable – that’s what you want, that’s what you get.’ 

‘Suits me just fine.’ After rinsing his mouth out Bodie turned, swivelling in Doyle’s arms. ‘This fine piece of machinery doesn’t want a _bullet_ up its crankcase,’ he murmured, lips twisting into a lascivious smile. 

‘Hey, last time you smiled like that at me, you were talking about Betty,’ Doyle accused. 

‘Betty who?’ Bodie asked innocently. When he saw Doyle wasn’t likely to be fooled, he continued, voice low and serious. ‘All the women – they distracted me from _you._ Some of the ones I told you about, they were men and they made me miss you the more. But I love you, Ray. And I don’t need any distractions now, I don’t _want_ any distractions.’ 

‘You’re the biggest womaniser I’ve ever met,’ Doyle complained, though he was starting to smile. 

‘I might have been once,’ Bodie murmured, ‘but this is the new improved model Bodie. All this one’s interested in is Ray Doyle.’ He grinned and tilted his head forward to touch their foreheads and the tips of their noses together. ‘Now give this fine piece of machinery some well-earned mouth-to-mouth lubrication…’ 

♦

Doyle lazed back in his chair, waiting for Bodie to tidy up the last of a report for Cowley. ‘Almost with you, sunshine,’ Bodie had muttered ten minutes ago, though he still seemed no closer to finishing. ‘It’s hard to know just how to tell this one.’ 

‘Just the facts, ma’am,’ Doyle quipped, which earned him a wolfish grin. But then the blue eyes were back on the report form, and the brow above them was frowning. 

Doyle stood, wandered over to the open door and cast a look down the darkened corridor. The building was virtually deserted – just the usual pair of operatives on alert in the duty room on the floor below, and the guards, and of course Cowley in his office, eternally tidying something up or worrying over some difficult case. 

Cowley. 

One day soon they’d have to tell Cowley they were lovers, before the man figured it out for himself. The problem was never out of Doyle’s consciousness, though he couldn’t quite solve the _how_ of it. The obvious time was some quiet night like this, with no others around, no urgent cases demanding attention. Nights like this were rare enough – but what to say? _We’re in love, sir._ The older man would probably retort, exasperated, _What’s new? I can never keep up with all the poor_ _girls’ names._ Silence. _With each other, sir._ Doyle grinned, trying to picture Cowley’s subsequent expression. 

When he turned back to see Bodie typing away, Doyle’s grin became smug. There was no getting over it – since Bodie had become his lover fifteen days ago, Doyle had felt outrageously smug. It was quite something to capture the Casanova of CI5. At least, it was quite something to capture him for more than a night. 

Cowley’s secretary, Betty, had at first looked miffed but unsurprised, realising that Bodie had moved on, if not knowing who to. But then Doyle had used his much-abused powers of observation, and figured Cowley must have finally decided to let office etiquette slip a little… Doyle had been pleased to see Betty looking happier than when it had been Bodie at her heels. _One rival less,_ he couldn’t help but think. _Good on them both,_ he amended when in a more charitable frame of mind. 

Settling in his chair again, watching Bodie, Doyle lazily thought back over the days they’d spent together. That first night of course, despite Bodie’s sensible intentions and correct assessment of their physical states, they’d made love together. Nothing spectacular or energetic: simply masturbation, mutual and surprisingly satisfying. And kissing – Doyle hadn’t been able to get enough of Bodie’s beautiful mouth, which was as hungry as his own despite the teasing denials. In the comfortable warmth afterwards, though, Bodie had seemed upset. When Doyle insisted on knowing what was wrong, Bodie had eventually pulled Doyle’s hand to his chest and whispered, ‘It hurts.’ Doyle hadn’t said anything but tried to convey his compassion – and Bodie had soon laughed. ‘The glaciers crashing in a Spring thaw, the ice floes melting…’ And of course Bodie’s cocky confidence had returned by the following morning, and ended up infecting Doyle, too. 

Their first week together had been an odd blend of years-old comfort and shockingly intimate exploration. In bed (or on the floor, or in the kitchen or the car…) Bodie had deliberately held back, letting Doyle take the initiative. Their lovemaking had often ended with Doyle fucking Bodie, while jerking him off. Doyle had known he wasn’t showing much imagination, but he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the glorious sensation of Bodie’s tight, hot arse contracting around him as the man climaxed. 

After seven days of this, he’d finally summoned the nerve to offer his own arse to Bodie, yet Bodie had refused. ‘Bloody tempting, sunshine, but it would hurt you.’ 

_‘You_ enjoy it.’ 

‘I’ve had more years of experience than I like to think of right now. I’m used to it. But if you want, we’ll get you used to it, too.’ 

‘Yeah, I want,’ Doyle had said, breath short. To be honest, the idea of this fine piece of machinery screwing him was beginning to turn him on no end. 

But every now and then he would come to a complete halt – figuratively if not literally – and wonder how on earth it was possible to so suddenly and completely change his entire way of life. Doyle was now forced to admit that his innocent initiation with Kevin must have paved the way. It seemed strange to him now that he _hadn’t_ worried about his memories of that teenage affair. He’d often wondered what had happened to the boy he’d known, far more frequently than he’d thought about the women who’d meant something to him. Maybe his own belated but enthusiastic entry into the hunt for the female of the species had been in some small way a denial, a running away. 

Bodie broke into Doyle’s reverie. ‘Ready for me tonight? Forgot to tell you, but Cowley said we could skip our next shift if he gets this report, because we’ve put so much time in lately. All those hours to ourselves…’ 

‘Maybe.’ 

_‘Maybe?!’_ Bodie rolled his eyes. 

‘What happened to all that infinite patience?’ The night that Doyle had offered his arse, Bodie had immediately started the process of readying him. He’d started licking and stroking Doyle’s hole until for those hours it was the only place on his entire body that gave Doyle any pleasure. And the next time they’d made love, Bodie had pushed an oiled finger within him, while giving him the best head Doyle had ever had. And so it went on, Bodie methodically pushing back the boundary of pain, turning all sensation to exquisite pleasure, until Doyle’s body right now was crying out for the final step. 

‘I’ve run out of patience,’ Bodie announced now, his wicked grin growing. 

Doyle could feel his face pale. He’d been counting on that patience holding out. ‘Haven’t you finished that report yet?’ he asked faintly. 

‘Hey sunshine, trust me!’ Bodie protested. ‘Don’t you trust me?’ 

‘Yeah. Most of the time.’ 

Bodie stood and prowled around their desks to his partner. ‘The report’s finished. Now it’s time to concentrate on your sweet little arse.’ 

‘Bodie!’ The words and Bodie’s attentions were shocking in this environment. Doyle’s grin was half horror and half delight as Bodie straddled him and sat on his thighs, face an inch away. 

‘Angelheart,’ Bodie said, expression intense, arms snaking around Doyle’s waist. ‘Do you want me inside of you?’ he murmured. ‘Do you want me pumping you, filling you up, all heat and sweat, simmering blood and flesh?’ 

When Bodie got like this, Doyle felt like a rabbit transfixed by a car’s headlamps. ‘Yes,’ was all he managed in reply, his physical reaction uncomfortable in his tight jeans. 

Bodie was slowly, sensually kissing Doyle when Cowley walked in. Whatever their boss had been about to say was cut short, and he ended up gaping ridiculously – the only time that Doyle could remember Cowley being lost for words. Doyle met Cowley’s gaze for a long moment, and all that ran through his head was that the man’s expression was even funnier than Doyle had dared to imagine. 

‘Both of you. In my office. Now!’ And Cowley walked out again. 

Bodie hadn’t turned to look at the intruder, but sat still with his head hanging, the picture of dejection and embarrassment. 

‘Come on, mate,’ Doyle said. ‘We knew we’d have to tell him sooner or later.’ 

‘Yeah, that’s the point. We should have told him. God, I’m a fool.’ 

‘Well, there’s nothing we can do now _except_ talk to him. Come on, lover.’ 

Bodie looked up him bleakly. ‘Tempting Fate. I must be addicted to it. I didn’t have to do this right now, I didn’t have to risk it.’ 

Doyle laughed. ‘You’re like a black panther; just as hot, and just as dangerous. I love you for it.’ He leant forward a little for a kiss, almost unbalancing them on the office chair. ‘You know the most difficult thing would have been actually telling him – at least we’re spared that. I couldn’t quite figure the right words…’ 

Growling in answer, Bodie clambered off his partner. 

But when the pair got to Cowley’s office, the Controller talked the business that had brought him to his operatives’ office in the first place. All brisk efficiency, he sent them out to follow up a new lead, and they were dismissed before either of them could say anything more. 

‘This isn’t fair,’ Doyle protested as he settled into the passenger seat of Bodie’s car. ‘The anticipation is worse than the punishment.’ 

‘Still sent us out together, didn’t he? That’s all I care about.’ Bodie’s hand left the wheel to grip Doyle’s knee. ‘Don’t want to be apart from you, Ray. And I certainly don’t want another partner.’ 

‘With your history, _I_ don’t want you to have another partner either!’ Doyle laughed and after a moment, looking over at him, Bodie began chuckling, too. 

♦

A few hours later, having reported back to Cowley, Bodie and Doyle stood before his desk, awaiting the inevitable. The Scot was silent for long minutes, gazing out of his window with his back to them. 

‘I guess this affair of yours has been going on for two weeks now,’ he finally remarked. 

‘Yes, sir,’ Bodie replied, exchanging an ironically raised eyebrow with Doyle. ‘How did you know?’ 

‘I’m not daft – I knew something was going on, I just didn’t know what. _You_ –’ he glared at Bodie, ‘have been particularly obnoxious of late, and _he’s_ been catching it from you.’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ Bodie agreed. ‘But what are you planning on doing? I don’t want –’ 

_‘You_ don’t want?’ Cowley exploded in his broadest brogue. ‘What makes you think you have any say in this? If you’d been mature enough to tell me about it in the first place, I might have treated you like adults.’ 

‘With respect, sir, I don’t think you’re in a position to throw the first stone,’ Doyle said. Bodie cast his partner an admiring and vaguely surprised look. 

Cowley nodded. ‘Granted. But Betty and I,’ and he glared again at Bodie, ‘are not partnered field operatives. Your very lives depend on each other every day, let alone the lives of innocent people, and the success of CI5’s operations. What if this relationship doesn’t work out? What if you have a tiff one day, and the communication isn’t there when you need it most?’ 

‘On duty, work comes first, sir,’ Bodie stated firmly. 

‘That’s not the impression I got in your office this evening.’ 

‘I’d finished that report, and we’d signed off. We were on our way home. Sir.’ 

‘Be that as it may…’ Cowley sighed, starting to pace slowly back and forth behind his desk. ‘Perhaps it’s as well you didn’t tell me about it two weeks ago – I would have separated you.’ 

_‘No,_ sir!’ Bodie burst out. Then, as he faced Cowley’s scowl for the third time, he backed down. ‘Sorry, sir,’ he muttered, patently not meaning it. 

‘But I’ve seen your work, and it’s been excellent. I wonder if it isn’t because of this – at least in part.’ Cowley paced further, silent again. If he was honest with himself, over the last few days or even a week it was as if the mechanism of Doyle and Bodie’s teamwork had slipped smoothly into a higher gear. The pair were working faster, harder, easier than they’d ever done before. And a good team is worth more than the sum of its parts, Cowley reminded himself; to send them each out alone would not bring in the results that they produced together. ‘Bodie, you told me about your partner in Africa. You said you worked well together for a number of years?’ 

‘Yes, sir.’ 

‘And can you honestly tell me you see no reason for it not to work this time?’ 

‘Yes, sir. With respect, I’ve been wanting this since I met Ray, and it’s never got in the way.’ 

‘And you, Doyle. What’s brought about this change in your… inclinations? What if you wake up one day and you’ve changed your mind again?’ Cowley watched the speechless Doyle for a long moment. ‘It _is_ my business, lads, because if this goes wrong, I lose a damned good partnership. And maybe I’ll lose more than that, too.’ He paused for a long moment. ‘What if you decide you still need a woman, and Bodie goes into a life-threatening situation in a jealous rage?’ 

Doyle swallowed hard. ‘I won’t say I haven’t asked myself a lot of the same questions, sir. But it’s not entirely unprecedented on my part either – though I wasn’t expecting anything like this.’ 

‘Then how do you know it will last? That it’s worth the risk of everything else?’ 

‘Bodie and I have been through enough to know what we’re doing,’ Doyle said shortly. 

‘You think so? You’d like me to believe that you’re old enough and wise enough, is that it?’ Silence. Cowley considered each of them. ‘Well, I’ll give you gentlemen the benefit of the doubt, but on a strictly day by day basis. And I hold you both personally responsible for whatever happens. Keep that in mind – I’ll separate you, or ask for your resignations, at the slightest provocation. And that includes a repeat of the scene I walked in on, on these premises or at any time on duty. Do I make myself clear?’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ they chorused. ‘Thank you, sir,’ Bodie added. 

Cowley looked at them for a long moment, eyes bright and fierce. ‘Then, unofficially, you have my blessing. But –’ he abruptly returned to his former severity – ‘I don’t ever want to have to talk to you about this again!’ 

‘Yes, sir!’ 

‘I’ll put this on file, you know the usual. It’s unwise to be open about your relationship, but on the other hand, if there are blackmail attempts, then you tell me immediately. There will be absolutely no reason to cooperate with any kind of extortion. And you do _not_ let this affect your official actions in any way.’ 

‘Of course, sir.’ 

‘Of course, sir,’ Cowley repeated in weary mockery. ‘All right. Dismissed.’ And as he watched them leave, he let himself smile faintly. _A good team,_ he thought. _Unorthodox, but the best I’ve ever supervised._ He was about to sit down, put his feet up, mull over the past, but instead he turned, grabbed his jacket and coat. Maybe there was time to call on Betty after all. 

♦

‘Would you want a woman sometimes?’ Bodie asked as he drove them home. ‘I think I’d understand.’ 

‘I wouldn’t understand, so don’t you go thinking about it,’ Doyle retorted. ‘Anyway, I’m under orders,’ he added cheekily. ‘No one but you, or the Cow will sack me.’ 

‘I was hoping you’d want it that way.’ After a moment, Bodie smiled over at him. ‘So are you ready for me?’ 

‘Yeah, lover,’ Doyle said quietly. ‘Ready for anything…’ He gazed out of the side window for a while at the midnight-quiet streets. ‘The old man gave us his blessing.’ 

Bodie chuckled. ‘Appeals to me, that. Like we’re a pair of newly-weds.’ 

‘Lord, I’m catching your cocky attitude, and you’re getting soppy. What is the world coming to?’ 

‘You know that old theory, sunshine. A human being is only half of the creature it once was, and so goes through its entire life looking for its other half, looking to be whole again.’ 

‘And together, we’re whole. I like that notion, Bodie.’ 

‘I like it, too, sunshine.’ Bodie pulled up in front of the block of flats he lived in, and grinned over at his partner. ‘You ready, Ray? Because I’m coming whether you’re ready or not…’ 

Doyle laughed as he raced Bodie up the flight of stairs. 

♦


End file.
